The English Spy, page 578 by Bernard Blackmantle
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ality, by dashing off con amorethe lions of the North.
2 There frequently occur circumstances in a younker's life which lie never, in all his after career, forgets. I remember a very worthy and a very handsome old gentlewoman, the wife of an eminent physician, once being exceedingly wroth, it was almost the only time I ever knew her seriously angry, because a nephew of hers asserted all women were, what in the vulgate is called "knock-knee'd," and almost threatened to prove the contrary. Had she lived in our days, the truth, almost on any evening on our stage, might be ascertained, and I fear not at all to the satisfaction of the defender of her sex's shape. Nature never intended women to wear the breeches, and the invention of petticoats was the triumph of art. Why will Eve's daughters publicly convince us they are not from top to toe perfect?
~273~~As, however, some that attend my sitting are quite as difficult to manage as the conspirators of Prospero's isle, it may be as well if, like Ariel, I sing to them as I lay on the colours of identification. Bear in mind still, that I am a "spirit in the clouds," and, therefore, there can be nothing of "michin malachi" in my melody.
I love a race-course, that I do; But then, good folks, it is as true, Only don't blab, I tell it you, I can't love all its people;
For though I'm somewhat down and fly, Is slang gone out, sweet Mister Spy? Of trade with them I am as shy As jumping from a steeple.
Yet what with fashion's feather'd band, And pawing steeds, and crowded stand; Its sights are really very grand, Which to deny were sin.
But then, though fast the horses run, Few gain by "clone," and "done," and "done," For what a damper to the fun! Those "only laugh who win."
Oh! what a mixture must we greet In rooms, at inns, on turf, in street; Be "hand and glove" with all we meet, Old files, and new-bronzed faces!
With marquis, lord, and du